


take a shot.

by yojin (MnM_PD)



Series: chemical in your brain. [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Grieving, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, about wonwoo sighing for 7 (or more) times bc of wen junhui, drunk flirting so i'm not sure if that's non-con or not, maybe borderline, so i'm sorry if it may look offensive to anyone, vices, was finished back in dec 6 2018 but only gon post now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-07 09:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnM_PD/pseuds/yojin
Summary: ‘take a shot.’he says inside his mind.‘take a shot.’he demands harder.‘take one more shot.’he almost prays.





	take a shot.

**Author's Note:**

> i rewrote lots of parts of this to get the right feel and even changed writing styles after i reached the middle part of the plot so i had to delete lots. i even thought of changing perspectives when i was nearing the end but since it was almost finished, i just went on with it. it’s hard to redo whole paragraphs that you liked writing but need to rewrite bc the style doesn’t convey the scene in a way that you want it to. jahsksja. i hope the struggles were worth it.
> 
> also. it’s so damn hard to put tags for a fic and a trigger warning without spilling the plot but if that would prevent smthng ugly, then i would. but i hope this ain’t too uggle tho.

The time was nearly eleven o’clock at night, and as Wonwoo opens the door to his solo hotel room, he instantly scrunches his nose at the smell that greeted him. It was the scent of lemon, and from what his human nose can pick up, it also smelled of alcohol.

 

It goes inside his head like a steadfast routine of questions for elementary school kids’ quiz bee — what basic alcohol needs lemon? Tequila. Whose usual drink is tequila among the members? Wen Junhui. Why is Junhui is in his room? To that matter, Wonwoo likes to avoid the fact that he does know the reason, and he still pretends and believes he really doesn’t.

 

He then walks on the short hallway towards the space where his bed was situated. He kept his stare away from the other man in the room so he could take in his dark surroundings for a moment, letting the slightest shine of the moon inside his room inform him what kind of storm Wen Junhui had made pass through. It was not as messy as he was used to; no pillows and blankets on the floor, not a lot of wasted pieces of food on the floor, and no discarded clothes. Wonwoo’s eyes then get attracted by some shine at the corner of where the fridge was, and he was slightly irked and also quite thankful that Junhui did not close the fridge’s door, lighting up the floor a little more than the subtlety of the moonlight. He saw a piece of bitten pizza right in front of the fridge’s yellowish light, and he sighs.

 

He walks towards the fridge while he listens to the clinking of glass to glass, then the sound of liquid being poured onto another container. He picks up the pizza, which was cold, then he realized it was the left over pizza he wanted to eat after he got back. It was a waste, so he threw it in the trash can with the slightest bit of hesitation.

 

Wonwoo then angles his whole body towards the silhouette of the boy who’s on his way to possibly drinking himself to death. He sees him throw back a shot, hiss, bite a lemon and lick off something on the back of his hand, which is obviously salt. Junhui doesn’t notice him, but it actually is more like choosing not to notice Wonwoo, and it was annoying because this was Wonwoo’s solo room. He fought through hell and high waters so he could have a room just for himself, but with the way Junhui was acting right this moment, the guy was obviously unapologetic about how he was treating and disturbing Wonwoo.

 

Wonwoo was tempted to ask Junhui how he got inside the room, but he stopped his curiosity and just sighed through his nose because no matter how much effort he puts in to stop Junhui getting into any of his private spaces, Junhui would always find a way to do so. It’s either he told a lie to their company staff or the hotel staff or even the members.

 

If Wen Junhui wants to get inside his room, that guy could be  _convincing_  as heck to anyone. Not a single person could have said no to him at all. The best example to analyze and critic was Wonwoo himself. He tried to teach himself how to say no to Junhui one time, but he graded himself a W —  _whipped_.

 

Even if the visit was not expected and wanted, Wonwoo still worried if Junhui had even ate a proper meal before drinking, so he knelt down in front of the open fridge, rummaged through its contents, and looked for something for the two of them to eat, asking, “Did you have a meal before drinking?”

 

“I ate pizza.” Junhui quickly informs him while sucking on a piece of lemon noisily.

 

Wonwoo pauses his hand hovering over a can of beer, then he looks over his shoulder and looks at Junhui with a frown, “That’s not a proper meal.”

 

“It is to me.” Junhui says in a kid like voice, and Wonwoo wasn’t sure if he winked or not, it’s hard to tell when the room has no lighting.

 

Wonwoo just sighs because that’s basically the only thing he can do around Junhui, and grabs the beer, the kimchi rice, and chicken bites as well. He gets up, closing the fridge’s door, places the food he got on the microwave that’s just on the left side of the fridge, then grabs a spoon and chopsticks while those heat up. He opens a can of beer for himself with the slight buzz from the microwave echoing in the background.

 

He takes a gulp of beer while walking to the bedside table. He opens the lamp before he talks again, “Don’t you care about a hangover? We have a tight schedule tomorrow.”

 

“Wonwoo.” Junhui says it in a slightly knowing tone, prolonging the last syllable, “That’s why I’m here in your room, expecting your tender care.”

 

Wonwoo looks at the other way immediately while walking back to the table close to the fridge and swallows whatever it was inside his throat. It tasted like something confusing, like a feeling of being shy but also glad. His eyes were finally adjusting well in the darkness, then with the addition of the table lamp, it didn’t help that he can see Junhui smiling at him when he said that. It made Wonwoo’s gut feel something heavy, and he wasn’t sure if it was a chunk of heavy metals or a bulk of fresh flowers. Maybe both.

 

The microwave finally made its presence relevant by making a beep thrice so Wonwoo had the excuse to do something else than looking at and answering Junhui. Wonwoo liked to get out of that situation and conversation fast, but as he was taking the food out silently, Junhui had something to say, “You always worry about me.”

 

Wonwoo silently sighs as he takes the heated food out of the microwave, and even if he ironically acted and acts like he doesn’t care, he gave Junhui the box of chicken and chopsticks due to his worry for Junhui’s stomach.

 

He really puts up a front which shows that he thinks Junhui is a nuisance to him, but in reality, he really does mind about Junhui’s well being. That’s why he makes sure Junhui eats while or before drinking so he won’t have a bad stomachache, makes sure Junhui drinks water while he is intoxicating himself with alcoholic drinks so he doesn’t get dehydrated, makes sure Junhui doesn’t sleep drunk so he would not get an ugly hangover, makes sure Junhui would have something warm to eat and a pill to take when he wakes up so his morning would be better. He has basically spoiled Junhui to the best he can by letting him drink and be just be fine after, and sometimes he thinks Junhui takes advantage of that a lot. Which Wonwoo never really complained about. He had just let Junhui be a massive wreck while he complies to holding the pieces together before, during, and after the crash.

 

“Eat.” Wonwoo orders, and Junhui starts to eat the chicken bites obediently.

 

They stay like that for maybe ten minutes, just eating silently with occasional drinking, accompanying each other. Being miserable together.

 

It was peaceful, but there was a slight tension inside Wonwoo’s ribcage. There was a feeling of being pushed towards the ground. Some sort of heaviness in the air. Maybe it was because Wonwoo’s on his second can of beer, or Junhui’s stare, or just his stomach digesting the food, but who would know anyway.

 

When Wonwoo finished eating, as well as Junhui, he took the initiative to clean up the disposable materials they used to eat. He grabbed the box he gave Junhui off of his bed especially, because the thought of it spoiling his bed sheets already makes him cringe.

 

When he disposed most of it, Junhui has already taken one shot, and was immediately pouring another one, “Hey.” Junhui calls him, then he nods his head in a ‘come here’ gesture, “Take a shot?”

 

Wonwoo shakes his head slightly, “I’m drinking beer, and I have to look over you, so no.”

 

He sees Junhui pout, “Just one.”

 

Wonwoo chuckles a bit at the show of trying to be cute. Junhui does these kind of expressions even when he isn’t drunk, but he becomes a tad more cuter when he is drunk.

 

“No.” Wonwoo still rejects. He doesn’t want to get intoxicated when Junhui is with him. He’d rather stay sober, borderline tipsy, so at least he would still have control over himself and stay aware of what is happening around them. Also, taking care of Junhui comes first as his priority in this certain moment, and he won’t be able to do that when he is also drunk.

 

Junhui groans and lays his chest down on the bed, whining softly, “Yangyang would’ve drank with me.”

 

And that’s when Wonwoo knows Junhui is getting tipsy. Wonwoo is sure of that. He went through this moment every single time Junhui drank in his presence since the past three weeks. Then whenever Junhui says that name, there would always be a slicing feeling that would go through Wonwoo’s chest. Pain or guilt? Maybe both.

 

Wonwoo ignores the statement instead, so he asks, “How long have you been drinking before I got here?”

 

“Hmm?” Junhui hums, then he sits back up again so he could look at Wonwoo, “Two shots?”

 

Wonwoo only nods. It makes sense that Junhui was only tipsy at the moment, he hasn’t had much to drink yet. By now, he approximately had five to six shots of tequila, and it would take more than that to make him drunk. A person who drinks himself to being wasted two nights in one week would have had a raised tolerance by now, and Junhui had a high one even before all this mess happened. Junhui gets drunk up to how his mind can possibly handle, and then drinks more to drown his sadness, so in two out of seven nights of him drinking for a whole week, sometimes he really does go overboard. Wonwoo should be stopping him, but even if he tried, Junhui won’t just easily obey. He’s the one who decides when to get wasted and when to not get wasted. This has been going on for  _three_  weeks.

 

In the first week, he once tried to make Junhui stop taking shots, and he had to take care of a baby having a very, very bad tantrum. He had bruises from that day, but he thought it was all fine, as long as Junhui had let out the hurt in his chest. It sounds masochistic, but he learned that letting Junhui cope with what happened by unhealthy acts is the only support Junhui would accept as of the moment. He doesn’t need pity, doesn’t want softness, doesn’t welcome being treated as something fragile.

 

The only way someone could help him is by hiding it under a pretense of letting him do what he want. Just like what Wonwoo has been doing. This is how he shows his care. He lets Junhui be toxic to himself, but he’s almost just barely there to watch over the ache Junhui wants to expose for a while. He lets Junhui feel the sting of the open wounds, but never lets him carve it bigger and wider. He watches, and then waits for the time Junhui can’t feel it anymore. Even just temporarily.

 

Junhui started pouring another shot as Wonwoo could see in his peripheral vision. Junhui drank it straight, and then poured another one as fast. Wonwoo looked at him, worried that Junhui might take continuous shots which he has done before for a lot of times, and he actually was. Junhui was taking another shot yet again.

 

“Hey, Jun—“ Wonwoo gets up, then grabs the bottle of tequila quickly. He sighs before looking down on Junhui, then says with the slightest strictness creeping into his tone, “Slow down your pace.”

 

Junhui gulps the shot, then he groans before pouting, but he sighs too and stares back at Wonwoo blankly. He then taps the space of the bed right beside him, and Wonwoo shyly looks away before obeying.

 

Right after the bed dipped because of Wonwoo’s weight, Junhui immediately placed his head on top of Wonwoo’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Wonwoo then automatically tried to stay still so that he would not disturb Junhui or aggravate whatever kind of being drunk Junhui is already experiencing.

 

“Are you drunk yet?” Wonwoo asks softly, thinking about tucking Junhui to sleep already. He feels Junhui’s head move side to side on his shoulder, then he hears Junhui mumble a short no. Wonwoo hums back, then they were silent once more, and this happens a lot to them, wether one of them is drunk or not. Wonwoo likes to think they are just comfortable with one another’s company, even if there is no conversation between them. Just being together, seeing each other, knowing that they are there for one another.

 

Wonwoo knows that in Junhui’s perspective, it’s all just platonic feelings. It’s because they’re both a part of a family. That they’re just band members, close to being brothers. Wonwoo sees it that way too, but when it comes to feelings and emotions, Wonwoo thinks of Junhui as a person a little bit more than that.

 

“Wonwoo.” Junhui calls him with a tone that seeks attention, so Wonwoo raises his brows and hums as an answer.

 

Junhui opens his eyes a bit, then he wraps his arms around Wonwoo, “You told me you liked me, right?”

 

Wonwoo felt his heart stop beating for half a second when Junhui said that, but he immediately recovered and acted like he didn’t understand what was said.

 

With a shaky tone, he said, “Junhui, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

 

Then he leads Junhui to sitting properly on his own, but Junhui removes himself off of Wonwoo and raises his hands.

 

“I’m not yet drunk.” Junhui says, then he opens his eyes to look at Wonwoo with a determined look. Then he smiles a little, trying to prove Wonwoo that he’s still in his right mind.

 

Wonwoo only sighs as he watches Junhui grab the bottle of tequila again, then drink straight from the bottle. Junhui gulps, then makes a sound in his throat. After that, Junhui started to stare off into space, so Wonwoo decided to get up and get his beer again. He feels better watching Junhui from afar, that way he’d know there should be a space between them. That he’d be reminded of the existing line not to cross.

 

In contradiction to Wonwoo’s thoughts, Junhui looked at him then complained, “Why’d you leave me alone?”

 

Junhui crosses his arms while raising his legs up on the bed to lean his back on the headboard. Junhui continues to glare at him, so he had no choice but to go sit on the bed with Junhui again. Like a loyal dog, which maybe he is, Wonwoo walks over the other side of the bed with a can of beer in his hand, then he lays down beside Junhui.

 

After he settled down, he asks, “Happy?”

 

Junhui smiles before he snuggles towards Wonwoo’s arm with a smile, “Very.”

 

Wonwoo smiles at that, then he relishes and appreciates how Junhui feels so warm beside him. He takes big gulp of beer before he puts it down on the bedside table. He angles his head towards Junhui’s hair, and he was about to run his fingers through those soft brown locks when Junhui said three words.

 

“I miss him.”

 

Wonwoo’s hand paused right on top of Junhui’s head, then he retracts it slowly back to his chest, feeling a tightening grip around his heart. His heart race, and every single beat hurts. He closes his eyes, trying to control the bitterness showing in his expression.

 

It was the first time Junhui admitted that. Wonwoo knows how Junhui feels. Everyone of them knows. Junhui’s not the only one hurting. Wonwoo understands that he has to be supportive of Junhui, to help him to move on, to console him, but he could feel the selfishness inside him more than being rational. Wonwoo believes he’s an intelligent guy, and that he can follow his mind rather than the heart, so he was going to say something, anything that would make Junhui feel okay, but Junhui spoke before he got to.

 

Junhui sniffles, and he says, “Sorry.” Then he gets up and takes his warmth away from Wonwoo to grab the bottle of tequila, “I need to drink more.”

 

Wonwoo also sits up. He sees Junhui is in sorrow, and he’s going through such grief that he resorts into intoxicating himself so that he could just forget. He relies on how a drink would change the chemicals in his brain for a quick pleasure of being ignorant, for a temporary amnesia, so his mind could not think of the harshness of reality.

 

This is how Junhui copes. This is how he moves on for a night. This is how he ruins his body. This is how he lets himself drown in toxicity. And Wonwoo lets him.

 

Wonwoo watches Junhui grab the bottle again and take multiple gulps, and when Junhui was going to take another drink, the bottle accidentally slips out of his hand.

 

“Junhui—“ Wonwoo gets up immediately to take care of the mess. He grabbed a towel hanging from a chair and stood infront of Junhui to wipe the alcohol off of him. Junhui looked up at him and smiled apologetically as he watched Wonwoo take the bottle of tequila away from the bed.

 

“Oops. I spilled it on me.” Junhui slurs, and Wonwoo knows that the alcohol was starting to kick in Junhui’s system.

 

“Yeah, even my bed is a mess.” Wonwoo says while checking what parts of the bed got tequila spilled on it. The blanket was spoiled and he’d like to ask the hotel for another one, but his priority was Junhui. So he ignored the sheets and walked towards his cabinet.

 

He got his pair of pajamas that he was supposed to wear tonight, but Junhui’s wearing a hoodie and jeans with tequila spilled on them. He walks back towards Junhui who had his head inside his hands, most probably feeling dizzy, then he softly pats Junhui’s arms to wake him up.

 

“Change into these.” Wonwoo says, and Junhui nods while standing up.

 

Junhui grabs the hem of his hoodie, but stops. Wonwoo looks at him with concern, humming an inquiry of why, but Junhui just pouts and whispers, “Help.”

 

Wonwoo chuckles a little, “Okay, okay. I’ll help you.”

 

Junhui then puts his arms up and lets Wonwoo pull the hoodie off, but since Junhui was taller, Wonwoo had to ask him to bend a little bit, and when he did, he lost his balance.

 

Wonwoo had to catch him before he dived towards the floor face first, and Junhui quickly clings onto him like a sloth.

 

“Ahh, everything’s spinning.” Junhui complains.

 

Wonwoo doesn’t pay attention to Junhui’s drunk sentences anymore and focuses on the task he was doing. He asks Junhui to stand on his own again so he could dress him up, but Junhui doesn’t want to so they sway together like that with Junhui’s head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, Junhui’s arms around Wonwoo’s neck, Junhui’s breath against Wonwoo’s collarbone. Wonwoo just closes his eyes, then he breathes in through his nose, smelling mostly tequila and lemon, but with the hint of Junhui’s favorite perfume.

 

“Let me stay like this for a while until the waves die down a little.” Junhui says against Wonwoo’s chest, and he felt Junhui’s arms tightening a bit around him, so Wonwoo decided to hug him back. He wrapped his arms around Junhui’s thin waist, and even if Junhui asked for permission to stay like that for just a while, Wonwoo would let him stay this way forever. Though that would be more for him, and not for Junhui.

 

Wonwoo pats Junhui’s back, and he can feel more prominent bones. Junhui had lost a lot of weight since the past three weeks due to the intense sadness he feels. He hasn’t eaten properly in that time span, so now he feels a bit smaller inside Wonwoo’s arms. They hoped this drinking phase would pass after a week or two, and yet Junhui is still miserable. Everyone’s anticipating the time Junhui would finally stop grieving, but Wonwoo isn’t so sure he’s one of those.

 

He’s scared that after Junhui moves on and forgets, these moments of them together would also be gone. He doesn’t want that. It’s a sad and selfish thought, but he would like Junhui to keep on needing him like this. He likes taking care of him, comforting him, holding him. He likes playing the character as Junhui’s knight.

 

Wonwoo suddenly feels Junhui’s breath on his neck, and Junhui mutters his name, “Wonwoo.”

 

Wonwoo changes the way he was holding Junhui for better support, but Junhui moved again to another position, running his hands down towards Wonwoo’s waist and steadying them there. Junhui slips his hands under Wonwoo’s shirt with no other intention than just feeling bare skin, and Junhui says his name again, “Wonwoo.”

 

Wonwoo can feel Junhui’s hands on his waist, and they feel nice to be just there. It was comforting to have Junhui’s softest touches on him even if it barely connects to him.

 

“You’re so warm.” Junhui says, and Wonwo only nods as a response. So then Junhui cuddles closer, and he too wraps one arm around Wonwoo, then he got his other hand out of Wonwoo’s shirt to place it on the back of Wonwoo’s neck, “You’re  _really_  warm.”

 

The fingers at the back of Wonwoo’s head curls at the tips of his hair slowly, then Wonwoo watches Junhui raise his forehead from his shoulders so he could connect theirs together. Wonwoo just stared at Junhui’s face, which was merely a breath away. In the dimly lit room, Wonwoo can feel Junhui’s exhales on the tip of his nose, on his cupids bow, and on his chest.

 

There was silence, and Wonwoo was taking the softest breaths as to not disturb it. He can feel his heart puncturing itself into his ribs, his senses increasing, his skin tingling. He tries to calm himself, but in a second, there was a snap.

 

Junhui’s hand spreads on Wonwoo’s lower back — his palm against his spine, his fingertips pressing sweetly, his nails shallowly anchoring themselves. Wonwoo had a moment to inhale through his mouth when Junhui tilted his head upwards with his hand on the side of his neck, a thumb hooked underneath his chin.

 

Wonwoo had closed his eyes at the sight of the ceiling, then he swallows and closes his mouth. He can feel Junhui’s lips touching his cheek, close to the very corner of his lips, rigid.

 

There was a second snap. This time it was a cut.

 

Junhui’s hold on him was not tight anymore, and the atmosphere had shifted back. Wonwoo is not idiotic enough not to feel the littlest changes on Junhui, so he sighs silently before reaching out to Junhui himself.

 

He was about to guide Junhui towards the bed so he could sit, but Junhui quickly took a step back, pressing his temples with his right hand’s fingers, exhaling quite loudly. His left hand reached for the tequila bottle Wonwoo had put away earlier, and he chugged down some of its contents once again as if he was in a hurry.

 

Wonwoo should have stopped him, should’ve taken the bottle away to where Junhui won’t be able to reach it, but all he did was look on the floor, look away, and walk towards the washroom to wet a towel so he could wipe the spilled alcohol off of Junhui when he get back.

 

This wasn’t the first time that happened. In fact, it usually happens, but after another shot, and another, and another; Junhui moves on for a moment. Junhui would forget.

 

Then he would see Wonwoo.

**Author's Note:**

> if it wasn’t clear enuff, yangyang is dead.
> 
> the ending was very anticlimactic. lmao. i rewrote that last paragraph a lot of times. hope the final product was okay for y’all. if you need any clarifications, just hmu in the comments !! (pls talk 2 me i’m lonely jk)
> 
> also, as the tags say, i think this kind of perspective is on the very, veeery edge of, like, the slightest non-con. (if anyone felt that or not, pls let me know bc it would bother me for all my life jonks hehes). that’s what this series is about tho: fucked up shit. so if your jam is some shit that’s fucked up, i hope you liked this. thank u. ily tonszxc.
> 
> lastly, i love this fic a lot. it made me go thru hell of rethinking my decisions for every word and every sentence and shit. this was Hard 2 write. but i enjoyed it. but i haven’t re-read the whole thing when i wrote this a/n so maybe i’m wrong about loving this fic. oks, adios.
> 
> read this again after two months of writing it and now i hate it.


End file.
